


Our Hearts Tied Together With a Golden Thread of Hope

by TrickyTricky



Series: An Unexpected Gift [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: 212th Attack Battalion - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Enthusiastic Consent, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff and Angst, Happy ending (for some), Jedi Code (Star Wars), Lucid Dreaming, M/M, Minor Character Death, Physically holding down during sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2020-01-31 10:38:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18589570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrickyTricky/pseuds/TrickyTricky
Summary: Marooned on a mysterious, verdant planet beyond any hope of rescue, Obi-Wan Kenobi and the clone troopers in his company must come to terms with their newly secluded existence, forcibly removed from the war that has defined their lives for so long. They will face challenges on their new path, but will soon discover that the opportunities for bright futures filled with freedom, peace, and love are far greater than any gift their previous lives would have bestowed.With this divergence, there is some mercy granted. On this path, lifetimes of service are rewarded with more than slavery and genocide. In this timeline, the rising tide of darkness will find fewer victims to drown. Some, though all too few, will be granted refuge from the storm.This time the rest of the galaxy can rise or fall on its own merits.





	Our Hearts Tied Together With a Golden Thread of Hope

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written for the 2019 SW Big Bang, and is a sequel to my previous work: [Beggars Would Ride](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15573513). I tried to write it in a way that it can be read as a stand-alone, and I think I succeeded, but readers will definitely have more context and better understanding of the current situation if they have read the other first.
> 
> A huge shout-out and thank you to my amazing beta reader, [jahaliel](https://jahaliel.tumblr.com/), this story would not be nearly what it is now without her amazing feedback and suggestions. And to the awesome, talented artists I was lucky enough to get to work with, [wrennette](https://wrennette.tumblr.com/) and [Danlian](https://whatincornation.tumblr.com/)...your work is gorgeous and really brought the scenes to life, so many thanks!

 

 

 

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_Ahsoka knew she was dreaming immediately._

_She had experienced something similar only a handful of times in her life. Togruta typically experienced REM sleep in a cycle shorter, but deeper, than humans; when she was an Initiate she had always been slightly jealous of the other species who could recall dreams frequently and shared stories about the meandering paths their minds would wander while they slept. Lucid dreaming was something she had always been interested in mastering, but had not yet found the time for the dedicated study it would need._

_The place Ahsoka found herself in was wreathed in hazy fog, obscuring much of the area around her. What little terrain she could see was flat and featureless, contributing to a mild sense of vertigo that took her a moment to shake off. Soft sounds of flowing water echoed back and forth in swelling ripples in the distance, strange reverberations of the sound making it impossible to pinpoint its direction. The fog seemed endless and impenetrable at first glance, moving about in quick little chaotic eddies to form an opaque curtain she could not see beyond. Ahsoka planted her hands on her hips and huffed out a quick breath of frustration._

_She had never had much patience for enigmatic mysteries, dream or no dream, and hoped that whatever purpose she had here would assert itself sooner rather than later._

_To her left, a soft glow began to penetrate through the fog, the first notable feature to make itself known in the landscape. She hesitated before shrugging and beginning to jog briskly towards that warm, inviting light. Any direction was better than none at this point._

_In the way of dreams, there was no surprise at what might have otherwise been an unexpected circumstance, only a feeling of joyful inevitability when the fog melted away to reveal a beautiful, sunlit clearing bursting with green life. Then she saw who was there waiting for her and her happiness magnified a thousand-fold._

_Master Obi-Wan was seated alone in one of four chairs positioned around a small table as she approached, a content smile on his face nearly hidden by the hand reaching up to stroke his beard in a familiar gesture as he studied the simple wooden game board set up on the table in front of him. Ahsoka felt an overwhelming swell of affection and couldn’t help quickening her pace and reaching her hands out in an instinctive gesture towards him._

_He seemed to sense her approach and looked up, his smile widening and eyes crinkling with happiness._

_“Ahsoka,” he said, his own hands reaching up to meet hers and squeeze in a warm greeting. “It is good to see you, young one.”_

_“Master,” Ahsoka managed to get out past the lump of emotion rising in her throat. “It’s good to see you, too.”_

_For a moment, she worried she was clasping his hands too tightly, but quickly dismissed the thought. He didn’t seem to mind, and only held her back just as tightly until she was ready to let go herself._

_It felt right to join him at the table, so she did, releasing his hands and sitting in the chair beside him. She studied the board in front of them curiously, taking in the simple wooden surface, several pegs circling the center, loose stacks of small, brightly colored, hexagonal game pieces piled up on each side. Master Obi-Wan held one of these in his hand, a piece painted in lovely shades of green, flipping it thoughtfully across his fingers as she watched._

_The two chairs across from them remained apparently empty, and somehow Ahsoka knew whoever their opponents were intended to be in this board game would not appear before them now. The game was clearly already well underway. Judging by the respective number and placement of pieces scattered across the board’s surface, the outcome was not likely to be in her and Master Obi-Wan’s favor. A shudder of unease shivered up her spine, the sourceless dread worsening the longer she looked across that cluttered board, so she turned her attention back to the man sitting at her side._

_“I’ve played this game many times,” Ahsoka said, her head tilted thoughtfully. “And I’ve never played it before in my life. Do you know the rules?”_

_“No. And I don’t think we ever will. Somehow I feel as though the rules will be an ever-shifting morass of quicksand below our feet, and the more we struggle to follow them, the deeper they will pull us under.” Master Obi-Wan shook his head ruefully. “I do know that the next play will be yours. Here.”_

_Ahsoka held out her hand, palm up, watching as Master Obi-Wan reached out and cradled it between his own, one above, one below. He clasped them firmly together as he passed the game piece he had been holding over to her care. She felt a golden, glittering presence encompass her as she accepted it, surrounding her with the scents of a thriving forest bursting with life and the feeling of nurturing sunlight warming her skin._

_She clenched her fist tight around the small hexagonal chip as Master Obi-Wan drew back, determined that she would protect this priceless secret, keep it safe, keep it locked tight within her heart until the time was right._

_Ahsoka drew in a deep, steadying breath and forced herself to name and confront her fear. It could not be ignored any longer. As Master Yoda taught, only by recognizing and acknowledging it, and eventually passing through it, could she become free from its control._

_“You’re dead, aren’t you, Master Obi-Wan,” she said, proud that her voice didn’t waver, though it came out sounding weaker than she hoped. “You’re dead and this is just a dream produced by my mind because I’m struggling with letting you go.”_

_“That is possible, Padawan,” Obi-Wan mused. Ahsoka was tempted to close her eyes to better savor that sorely-missed, familiar lecturing tone of voice he assumed when he was preparing to impart some small piece of his hard-earned wisdom. The thought that she might never hear it again made it feel like something vital was cracking open within her chest, spilling out grief and pain. “We will all rejoin the Force at some point. Passing from this life to the next is a natural process for all beings and we must always strive to make our peace with that.”_

_Ahsoka nodded, giving up the struggle and squeezing her eyes shut to hold back the tears that began to well up despite her attempts at control. It was natural, she knew that, and she was confident that in time and with effort and meditation she would reach the point of acceptance and serenity that she aspired to. It was just...she wasn’t quite ready yet._

_“It is possible that I have passed into the Force in the past few hours as I slept,” Master Obi-Wan continued, the mischievous curve of his lips audible in his voice, jarring her out of her dark thoughts. Her eyes sprung open, an incredulous hope dawning as he continued. “But taken as a whole, I think it more likely that I am still sleeping safe and sound on our new home, Cody and all the other bright lights of my comrades safe alongside me.”_

 

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One of the joys of being planet-side was taking the opportunity to pause and just breathe. Cody always looked forward to being able to steal a spare moment of peace for himself and breathe deep, feel his lungs fill up with that fresh, _new_ air that could only be found in a planet’s natural atmosphere. Even the best shipboard environmental recyclers couldn’t really replicate the sensation.

Cody inhaled slowly through his nose, not stopping until his lungs strained. Over the years since leaving Kamino he’d found some planets weren’t really worth the effort, the air clogged with dust or spores, or already choked with the smoke and stench of the battlefield by the time the 212th arrived on station. But this world was pristine. Completely untouched and thriving with green life and clear waters. After a few moments of stillness he opened his mouth to release the air in a quick rush and immediately breathed deep through his nose again to pull another in, closing his eyes and savoring the fresh smells of _life_ all around him.

That was the good stuff.

Cody was standing just outside the small tent he and General Kenobi had bedded down in the night before, helmet in hand and fully armored up. He would likely strip down to his blacks again if another day of salvage lay ahead, but he would at least start the morning off with the professional appearance his men had come to expect. Soon, he would have to set off and find out what had been set out for the morning meal and join up with the other leaders in the central command area, to sort through and prioritize the day’s efforts for all of their men. But right now, he could spare a few more moments for himself, enjoying the green-scented goodness of this world’s air, appreciating the crisp, cold bite of the morning breeze against his exposed face.

The night’s sharp temperature drop was already beginning to loosen its grip as dawn’s light took true hold of the world around him. The sky had barely begun to lighten to grey when he’d been woken by the soft sound of the tent opening being secured behind a departing body, a chilly breeze intruding briefly into the cozy space. He wasn’t sure what to think of Obi-Wan’s quiet departure following the night with its soft confessions and tender embrace, but was mindfully keeping himself from jumping to any negative conclusions.

Cody wanted so much from the other man, more than what they had shared last night, and now he was sure Obi-Wan knew it. He had carefully held himself back from pushing for anything further, not wanting to rush either of them into something they might come to regret. But what he felt for his general was far from platonic affection and had been for a long time now. So many nights had found him restless, unable to find sleep in his rack as he imagined increasingly vivid scenarios where the two of them would find pleasure in one another’s bodies.

Thoughts about the new potential for those dreams becoming reality kept intruding no matter how he tried to keep them pressed down until he could better gauge how Obi-Wan wanted to proceed. He prided himself on his self-discipline above all else; he would not let himself spiral down into pointless worry and self-doubt. All he could do was continue to be as clear as possible about his own intentions while respecting any boundaries Obi-Wan would choose to set.

Despite his resolve, he couldn’t completely suppress the little voice of doubt that worried he had pushed forward with his own desires too hard, too fast, and that Obi-Wan was now uncomfortable in the harsh light of morning with even the small intimacies they had shared the night before.

While his general’s wordless departure was slightly vexing to Cody’s desire to pin him down and get some straightforward answers out of him, Cody knew even less what to make of the device he had found sitting innocuously next to their shared bedroll when he had reluctantly forced himself out from the lingering warmth of the blankets. His general choosing to leave his lightsaber in Cody's hands was an obvious statement of intent, while still containing subtleties that he'd not yet fully deciphered.

A familiar surge of proprietary pride always filled him when he was reminded of the absolute trust his Jedi general placed in him, personally, every time he was given custody of this little piece of Obi-Wan’s soul. Over the years he had learned what meaning their lightsabers, and the crystals they held, had for the members of the Jedi Order that wielded them. He never made the mistake of taking the privilege of carrying it lightly.

Cody looked down at the weapon in his hand; such a simple casing to encompass the almost miraculous feats it could accomplish in the hands of a trained Jedi. If there was a more subtle message to be found in the lightsaber left behind for him to carry in addition to the deep and abiding trust he knew the other man placed in him, he could hopefully draw it out of the Jedi in person.

Or it may have just been a purely practical decision, providing Cody a uniquely effective tool that would once again make his work leading the ship salvage teams through otherwise impassable barriers go far more smoothly.

Impossible to tell.

Shaking his head and squaring his shoulders, he sucked one last deep breath in before letting it rush out of him, focusing, and forcing his thoughts back to the present. He tucked his helmet snugly against his side and clipped his general’s lightsaber onto the space he had made for it on his utility belt before setting off towards the sound of milling troopers and the smell of heating rations. No need to torture himself with might-be’s when he would have a chance to interact with and gauge the mood of the man in question soon enough.

After all, it wasn’t as though Obi-Wan would be able to avoid him indefinitely.

None of them were going anywhere anytime soon.

 

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Cody watched as the various lines slowly shuffled forward, each trooper being issued a tray of carefully measured hot rations for breakfast, a flask of water with their daily drinking allocation, and a small bag containing hygiene necessities as they approached each station in turn. He turned away after a few minutes, satisfied that the system the Negotiator's softshell logistics staff had worked out seemed to be functioning efficiently to get everyone provisioned and fed from the supply crates they had managed to recover so far from the wreckage.

The one thing General Kenobi had insisted on the previous evening before he had dismissed the other officers from his jury-rigged command station to find their own rest was a full muster of all personnel. No survivors would be left trapped alone in the dark. There had certainly been no argument from his men on that priority.

Thankfully, it had been easier to accomplish than it might have been otherwise. Their ability to calculate the timing of re-entry into real-space based on fuel consumption rates had allowed them to concentrate critical personnel into the fewest possible workstations necessary to safely operate the ship. The rest had been meticulously accounted for and organized into neat units, clustered together and strapped in within the most protected interior spaces and already braced for the potential emergency landing. Platoon leaders of the 212th and department heads responsible for the Negotiator's crewmembers were able to quickly and efficiently account for each individual trooper with only a few exceptions. A few dozen men had needed extraction from compartments with doors that had warped during the crash but Cody was able to take care of that quickly thanks to Obi-Wan's lightsaber. He had borrowed it the previous evening from the still-unconscious general, knowing that he would have approved of the use. Most of those who needed rescuing had been recovered alive, with only a handful of injuries; two had died during the crash.

There were already men assigned the duty of preparing funeral rites to be held that evening to honor those that had been lost most recently in the crash, as well as for the dozens that had been killed in the space battle that had preceded their hyperspace journey.

Everyone was hoping there would be no more losses throughout the day to join the brothers they would be commemorating, but four troopers were still in critical condition in the medical tent. Although the medics were doing their best with what they had, the primitive conditions and limited supplies they had been able to recover so far were not helping matters.

Cody was already running a little later than he wanted this morning, so he bypassed the supply distribution and chow lines for now and headed directly towards the center of camp where he knew the other officers would be converging. He would be able to see to a meal for himself once the morning business was concluded. Right now the prospect of filling his belly was taking a poor second place to the notion of seeing Obi-Wan face to face and assuring himself that all was still well between them.

When he stepped into the clearing at the center of camp, he was grateful that his helmet hid the slight wince of sheepish self-abashment that he could feel his mouth twisting into. It looked as though he was one of the last to arrive, all the other primary officers of the embarked battalion already in place around the central table. Despite the potentially grim circumstances everyone appeared to be in good spirits; casual conversations and a few scattered laughs caught his ear as he walked up to the group. Several were finishing up plates of food they had picked up on the go before heading over for the meeting. Everyone seemed relaxed and content to just enjoy one another’s company as they awaited the arrival of the last remaining stragglers.

Cody allowed himself the indulgence of a tiny sigh, too soft for his speakers to pick up and broadcast; mornings had always been his bane, and unfortunately everyone under his command was already well aware of his weakness in that regard. He could look forward to another round of good natured teasing from his subordinates as they ribbed him about this most recent of a long-running series of slow starts.

It was easy to pick out Obi-Wan’s auburn hair and beige tabards from the crowd of armored troopers surrounding him. It looked like someone had set him up with a walking aid cobbled together from scavenged bits of scrap metal; clearly one of the medics had caught the Jedi favoring his injured knee and done something about it. His back was turned to Cody as he approached, but even as he drew breath to offer what he hoped would come out as a casual but properly respectful greeting, he saw his general’s back straighten minutely and his head turn in his direction.

Cody’s heart leapt into his throat for just a moment as those seconds seemed to stretch out like taffy, then immediately dropped down into a scattered flight of butterflies in his stomach as he met Obi-Wan’s eyes and found nothing there but warm affection and an honest delight at his presence.

“Good morning, Commander.”

“Good morning to you, General,” Cody responded, not having much hope that the vocoder in his helmet would do anything to disguise the surge of adoration that could not be suppressed. Obi-Wan turned fully towards him, absently setting aside the jury-rigged crutch against the table and putting his back to the rest of group, giving Cody his undivided attention.

Cody cleared his throat. “I trust you slept well?”

He wanted to swallow the words back down as soon as they escaped. A wicked glint entered Obi-Wan’s eyes, the Jedi clearly considering and discarding several retorts before deciding on a simple and restrained, “Better than I have in many a month, thank you for asking.”

Cody was not so entranced by the mischievous blue eyes in front of him that he could have missed the increasingly ridiculous charades that his brothers were getting up to behind the general’s back, several of them silently falling over one another in pantomimes of crippling hilarity at his awkwardness. Gregor and Waxer had turned towards one another and were making increasingly exaggerated kissy faces, the ridiculous scene climaxing as Waxer pretended to swoon into a dramatic embrace.

Gritting his teeth, Cody refused to acknowledge their antics. They could have their fun for now. At the end of the day, he would make sure they all remembered he still had bottom line authority to revise any duty roster as he saw fit. There was a time and a place to rib one’s superior officer, and these men had chosen...poorly.

He smoothly pulled off his bucket, hoping the gesture was casual enough to pass without comment, and met Obi-Wan’s eyes. If he was conveying even a fraction of the desire and devotion he was feeling then he was sure the other man would get the message. From the way Obi-Wan’s eyes caught on his own and softened, his pupils expanding, his tongue darting out to lick his lips even as they curved up into a small smile, Cody was confident that his intentions were clear and his interest was reciprocated. Cody took a moment to allow his gaze to drift over Obi-Wan’s shoulder, making eye contact with one of the self-styled comedians in the group behind the Jedi, putting as much murder into his gaze as possible.

Obi-Wan’s smile shifted, turning more amused than fond, lips parting wide enough to show teeth as he clearly struggled to hold back a laugh. He nodded once to Cody and began to turn back toward the group, moving just slowly enough that it was obvious he was deliberately allowing time for the jokers at his six to compose themselves before they were caught in their various acts of mockery.

“I believe all of the essential personnel are here now, gentlemen. Shall we begin?” The General’s voice was brisk and business-like as he chivvied the meeting into order, Cody stepping forward to join him at his side. “It may take some time to talk everything through, so please, feel free to make yourselves comfortable.”

General Kenobi began to lower himself towards the ground, his mouth twisting as he shifted weight onto his injured knee. Cody stepped closer immediately, firmly grasping his forearm to help ease him down. Obi-Wan tensed for a moment, looking a bit startled by the sudden gesture, then nodded gratefully, leaning his weight onto the strong arm and allowing Cody to brace him as he sat, one leg extended a little awkwardly out in front of him.

There was some hesitation at first, but eventually the others followed his lead, making themselves comfortable in the grass around him until they were all clustered about like a group of younglings waiting for storytime. Waxer grabbed the crutch where it had been abandoned, leaning uselessly against the table, and pointedly set it down next to the general’s hand before claiming a patch of grass for himself.

“Captain Gregor, if you would begin by orienting us with any highlights that the overnight patrols observed?”

Cody settled in to listen, opening a notes function on his wrist comm to take down any critical details. Almost immediately, he felt a gentle elbow nudge against his side and turned to find Obi-Wan setting a covered plate down next to him, utensils balanced on top. He was also holding out a small thermos with an expectant look in his eyes. Cody raised a questioning eyebrow in return, but reached out to take the thermos when it remained extended towards him.

Obi-Wan leaned in closer and murmured softly, keeping his eyes up and most of his attention on the report Gregor was making. “I wasn’t sure if you’d have time to retrieve a morning meal for yourself and wanted you to enjoy a few more minutes of sleep. You looked too comfortable this morning to disturb, so I asked them to plate an extra portion that I could take along for you. When they heard who it was for, they were more than happy to provide a freshly brewed thermos of caf to help their commander kick up his energy for the day.”

Cody carefully schooled his face to remain steady; he had to remind himself that he wasn’t wearing his helmet, and moreover, that they were in the middle of a brief.

This was something he and Obi-Wan had gotten into the habit of doing for one another over the past year as their respective responsibilities had piled up more and more and their schedules had become increasingly unpredictable. When either one knew their counterpart would not be able to make it down to the ship’s wardroom during scheduled meal hours, they would always make sure to grab an extra boxed plate of rations to share.

It was one of the many little reciprocated gestures of care-taking that had helped sustain Cody’s hope that there could someday be room for their relationship to develop in a new direction. He had just previously expected that new direction would have to wait until after the interminable war finally ended.

Cody lifted the cover from the plate and dug in, not realizing how hungry he was until the first bite hit his stomach. The serving size was enough to satisfy his hunger, but as he twisted the cap off the thermos and took a grateful sip of the still-hot caf, he couldn’t help considering that those portions had been painstakingly measured to make sure their limited rations would last long enough for them to situate other means of survival out here.

The meeting had just turned to that very topic, with Captain Gregor and the Foxtrot Commando Group, augmented with additional manpower drawn from the ship’s company, being assigned primary responsibility for scouting the nearby areas. They would prioritize identification and tracking of any potential threats first and foremost, but would also work with designated medical specialists to gather and analyze samples of the local plant and animal life to begin supplementing their finite supply of salvaged rations as quickly as possible.

As for Cody himself, he would be working with the Negotiator’s department heads again, along with a few working parties from the 212th, with another day of ship salvage ahead.

General Kenobi would be focusing his efforts on the camp, making sure everything remained orderly, sanitary, and seeing that all of their men would be as comfortable and safe as possible in the coming days. The officers around the table exchanged covert glances as the division of labor was suggested and agreed upon, all of them hoping that their injured general would take the relatively stationary assignment he was given seriously and avoid aggravating his injured knee any more than was absolutely necessary.

It looked like that conversation with Obi-Wan would have to wait, Cody considered regretfully as he tilted his head back and gulped down the last of his caf. Even as a part of him wished he could pull the other man aside and demand satisfaction now, it was easy to set that impatient, selfish impulse aside.

Duty would always come first, for both of them.

And truthfully, Cody would have it no other way.

 

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_Rex was in one of the training rooms in Tipoca City. He could never mistake that unique soft white glow surrounding him and the gentle sloping curves of the facility. He knew he was in one of the lower level rooms when he registered the sound of the endless storm-chased waves breaking against the underside of the city supports. The noise was immediately familiar in its pulsing repetition, instinctively calming something restless within him._

_Being raised here as a cadet had unquestionably been a harder life than most sentients experienced as younglings, but it was the only life he and his brothers had ever known. There would always be a part of Rex that longed for and drew comfort from the nostalgic simplicity of his younger days marching up and down these hallways._

_The training had been challenging and arduous, and occasionally, actively dangerous, but looking back through the war-hardened lenses of a veteran, he longed for those innocent days when his mind and body had been completely focused on self-improvement. He missed the clarity of his youth, when all he had to do to triumph was succeed in running faster, jumping higher, shooting straighter, solving the tactical battle problem presented to him more quickly than he had the week before._

_To win the day now, there were an incalculable number of factors that had to be predicted, assessed, and planned for, many of which would never be known or were entirely outside of his control._

_Sometimes no matter how hard he fought, victory wasn’t even an option._

_And every day, more of his brothers died on the battlefields._

_He had no idea how or when he had arrived back on Kamino, or why he was no longer on the front lines with the rest of the 501st, but he knew there was no reason for any concern. He was exactly where he was meant to be._

_Rex noticed there were two target ranges set up nearby, lights green and blinking, indicating a practice simulation had been queued up and was ready to launch._

_He approached the one on the left, stepping into the booth and drawing his blasters from their holsters. He couldn’t hold back the fierce grin of anticipation that began to stretch his cheeks. He knew who would be joining him even before he leaned back and over, meeting Cody’s eyes with a challenging glint in his own._

_His brother stood in the booth beside his, his posture shiny-perfect, blaster rifle held in a firm two-hand grip and carefully angled downward to avoid any possible concerns about friendly fire, just as regulation textbook as he had always demonstrated for the younger cadets._

_The only thing that gave away Cody’s own eagerness to take up the challenge was the subtle curve to his lips, one eyebrow slightly raised; not quite enough to be called a smirk by anyone who didn’t know him well, but a red flag of mischievous intent to his friends. Oh, this was going to be fun._

_An entrance hissed open straight across the training field from them, the first wave of battle droids marching out in formation. He had long ago memorized all possible permutations of the training scenarios this simulation could throw at them. This particular scenario was designed to test weapon’s fire accuracy against moving targets and instill a basic understanding of resource limitation calculus on the battlefield. As soon as he tallied up the number of droids in the first wave and accounted for which direction they had come from, he knew every move that lay ahead._

_The droids opened fire, a barrage of training bolts pouring out in the direction of the two troopers. Most were aimed wide of their booths, as the weapons fire in this scenario was primarily intended to train inexperienced troopers’ nerves against panic in the face of enemy fire. He and Cody would remain in fixed positions rather than moving freely around the training room. An occasional training shot could be expected to enter the range of the booths themselves, but those rare instances were relatively easy to predict and duck to avoid once you had the rhythm down._

_The next few minutes blurred strangely in Rex’s perception, the time seeming to race by without him truly registering its passing. There was blaster fire all around him, but he didn’t let it distract him from his objective. He made sure every one of his shots counted. Each one represented one less murderous droid aiming to take the life of one of his brothers._

_Rex knew the exercise was nearing its end; in this scenario’s training mode, their blasters would be depleting the power packs far more quickly than normal. The effect was accelerated, intended to replicate constrained conditions on the battlefield and teach soldiers the importance of measured use of limited resources to see a battle through to the end. Rex had been counting his own shots, and a corner of his mind had been doing the same for Cody’s. The little ticker in his mental background was getting close to the red, but that was okay; he knew this scenario like the back of his gauntlet and the droids were nearly finished regenerating as well._

_He didn’t bother trying to hold back his fierce grin as he spent the last of his cartridges on a group of clankers coming in from their flank, taking each one out with a shot dead center in their faceplates, dropping them instantly. That would be enough to bump his score just above what Cody could earn, even if he managed to take out the one remaining battle droid advancing down the center with a perfect shot using his last remaining charge._

_“And that’s how it’s done!” Rex crowed, looking over at Cody. His brother didn’t take his eyes off the one remaining enemy clanker, his brow furrowed and a strange intensity in his gaze._

_Rex was about to add a comment about who was going to be buying the next round of drinks at 79’s, when the words seemed to dry up in his throat of their own volition. There was something wrong with that sentiment that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. How long had it been since he had a chance to catch up with Cody over drinks at the club?_

_Cody shook his head a little and seemed to wake up from some kind of trance, blinking over at Rex, then focusing again on the remaining droid advancing on their position. He tilted his head just enough to show off his profile to Rex, aiming a smug smirk over in his direction and offering a saucy wink that he had definitely picked up from his general._

_“You think so?” Cody asked, amusement rippling in his voice before he leapt into action in a way Rex hadn’t expected._

_Cody vaulted over the waist-high bar set in front of his position, sprinting towards the droid at his fastest pace. Even the clanker seemed taken aback as Cody closed the distance between them in seconds, swapping his hold on his rifle while he was in motion into a two-hand overhead grip. He brought it down in a diagonal slash like a club, striking true directly against the weakest connective point between the droid’s head-piece and its main body. Sparks flew up and the droid staggered to the side, moving straight into the path of the high spinning kick that Cody delivered to its head from the opposite direction._

_The first strike had broken enough components that the follow-on kick had the dramatic result of entirely decapitating the droid, its head flying off into the distance and its body immediately slumping over in defeat as Cody dropped down neatly into a three-point landing, one hand bracing himself in a ready crouch, the other firmly gripping his rifle by its stock._

_Rex found himself watching all of this unfold, speechless in a combination of outrage, confusion, and awe at the audacity of the attack. Cody straightened from his crouch, tilting his rifle up against his shoulder at a cocky angle as he practically strutted back over towards the range booths._

_Rex realized his mouth was hanging open a little and snapped it shut with a slight frown as their simulation scores flashed up on the display on the far wall. The unpredictable battle maneuver at the very end was apparently tallied for additional points._

_A tie._

_Rex blinked his focus back over to Cody who was now standing directly before him, a strangely soft and affectionate smile on his face._

_“That was just as much fun as I remember. I hope we have a chance to do this again someday.”_

_“Why wouldn’t we?” Rex asked, an ominous feeling settling into his core even as he said the words. Something was definitely wrong. He just couldn’t seem to force his mind to confront exactly what it was._

_Instead of answering, Cody tilted his blaster rifle down, letting it drop back into a two-handed grip. He reached up and ejected his blaster cartridge in a series of movements as precise as you’d see during a drill inspection. He swung the rifle around, clipping it into place smoothly in the holster across his back, and stepped closer to Rex until they were practically nose-to-nose._

_Rex wasn’t sure what to do at first when Cody reached out with both hands, offering up the cartridge, its gauge light blinking - the steady amber pulse indicating exactly one charge still remained for a final shot within._

_Rex didn’t know why (he refused to know why) but he found his eyes tearing up as he reached out to accept the gift from his brother. He held it in one hand, gripping it so tightly that for a moment he feared the edges would tear right through his skin._

_“And what is this supposed to be for?” Rex asked, blinking quickly, but meeting Cody’s gaze squarely for all of that. This was ridiculous. He wasn’t going to cry. There was nothing to cry about. Everything was fine. “Not much use left in this thing, is there?”_

_Cody just smiled a little, his eyes crinkling up with affection. That old familiar smile had always been all the more precious for its rarity, an expression that reassured and inspired in equal measure._

_“You’ll know what it’s for when you need it,” he said simply. The bright whites and dull greys of the training space were beginning to blur together in a baffling kaleidoscope tunnel. “Hold it safe until then, brother.”_

 

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The past few days had been difficult, notably stressful even compared to the shitshow his life had become since the war had called them up from training on Kamino. Cody lifted a hand to rub gingerly at the back of his neck. The pain there had eased following a night of sleep, but after the morning’s hard work prying open jammed doors, cutting through bulkheads with his borrowed lightsaber, and moving supplies out of the ship, it had grown worse again.

He was sure he wasn’t the only one nursing abused muscles that had been wrenched about in the violence of the ship's crash. If the pain hadn’t eased off by evening meal, he would probably need to talk to one of the medics about getting a cold pack and some anti-inflammatories. He sighed at the absent-minded thought. Medical supplies were a limited resource now and had to be treated as priceless. He wouldn’t use what another might need more just to ease some minor pains that weren’t limiting his ability to perform his duties.

He had just finished his afternoon meal, having enjoyed the opportunity to relax in the shade of some fragrant trees with a dozen other men on the crew he had been working with. The rations that were served up had been standard re-hydrated ship fare, but from the savory smells beginning to drift over from the food preparation area, it looked as if the culinary specialists had already been provided some local approved animal specimens to begin experimenting with to augment their supplies.

Gregor had been leading efforts in that direction all day, and Cody suspected he would soon be the most popular man on the planet. The men Cody had eaten lunch with were abuzz with rumors about discoveries of all kinds of edible fruits and berries, tart and sweet and bitter flavors all potential options, and large herd creatures placidly roaming on nearby plains, that had all already been tested safe for human consumption.

Cody didn’t blame the men for getting excited about the prospect of expanding their diet outside the military foodpacks that were standard issue for the GAR. They met all nutritional and caloric needs for a human, but consuming them was far from a satisfying experience.

After finishing his portion, Cody rose to his feet and wiped his hands absently against his thighs, brushing away the remaining crumbs from his meal off against his uniform blacks. He had a little time before he was scheduled to meet back up with the work section leaders at the ship, so he decided to make a short detour.

When he ducked his head to enter the large medical tent, he was immediately struck by the sweet, overpowering scent of bacta, undercut by sharp notes of disinfectant wafting through the space. Even with the tent’s door flap tied open to allow fresh air to circulate in, the distinctive odors still managed to linger.

Cody spotted the lead medic quickly and moved over to him for a quick status update. While Dealer brought him up speed, Cody watch two orderlies out of the corner of his eye as they bustled about between three occupied beds lined up neatly against one side of the tent. A fourth cot was set up next to the others but was vacant.

Cody allowed himself a moment to bow his head in grief when he learned that another trooper that had sustained serious injuries during the battle had died while Cody was working on the ship that morning. Three others remained in critical condition from wounds sustained during the fleet battle and complicated by the violence of the crash landing. Dealer was increasingly optimistic about their prospects, however, and shared his cautious opinion that all of the men who had survived up to this point were likely on the road to recovery now.

“And how are the men doing mentally? Any issues you’ve seen so far?” Cody asked. None of the GAR medics had been trained specifically to provide psychological support, but nearly all of them had picked up elements of the field’s techniques over the years.

“Nothing that needs your attention, Commander,” Dealer said, reassuring sincerity in his eyes. “A few headaches, a few brothers needing a friendly ear to vent some stress to, some reports of unusually vivid dreams that we can probably chalk up to adjusting to the unexpected situation we find ourselves in…Actually I’m surprised by how high spirits have remained throughout the day. I’d have thought morale would start declining after the initial high of our survival had passed, but I’m seeing a lot of smiles and hearing a lot of laughter even with the long duty shifts everyone is pulling.”

“I’m glad to hear it. Let me know immediately if anything significant changes.”

“Of course, sir,” Dealer said, straightening up minutely with the statement.

With a final nod of gratitude, Cody let the medic return to his work, the other man immediately scooping up a datapad connected to a sensor attached to one of his patients and focusing again on deciphering the read-out and providing what care he could.

On the other side of the tent, Cody made note of a line of a dozen more cots, only one of which was occupied. The trooper laying in it looked sullen, his right leg bare of both armor and blacks, propped up and elevated, with his ankle tightly wrapped in a garishly red compression bandage, cold packs braced against it on either side.

Cody made his way over to the trooper, carefully keeping his mouth from twitching up in amusement at the blatant expression of dismay that crossed the private’s face as he registered who was approaching his bed. Cody waved the young man down as he tensed as if thinking of jumping up to attention.

With that ankle? Dealer would go on a murder spree if he set back his healing by putting weight on the injury for something as ridiculous as military formalities. The first casualty would be the foolishly careless trooper, and next on the chopping block would be the commander himself for failing to stop him. Cody hadn’t had much personal interaction with this trooper yet; Polk was a relatively recent transfer from another unit that had seen a great deal of action in some recent Mid-Rim skirmishes, but his sergeant had provided generally positive reports about his integration into the 212th and his ability to think on the fly.

“At ease, trooper,” Cody said, keeping his voice as light and encouraging as he could. There was a time and a place for the hardass commander routine, but inside the medbay was seldom it. “And what kind of trouble have you been finding out here so soon?”

“Ah, good afternoon, Commander!” Cody watched with well-hidden amusement as the young man obviously flailed a little at his current situation; forced to remain prone in a medical bed when every trained instinct would be telling him to hop to his feet to render proper respects. Cody’s lips twitched a little despite himself when he saw the trooper’s right hand flutter a little at his side, an abortive attempt at a salute strangled before he could make a total fool of himself in front of a superior. “No trouble, sir!”

At his commander’s skeptically raised eyebrow the trooper swallowed hard and fumbled onwards with an explanation. “That is, no intentional trouble, sir. I was assigned to one of the scouting teams and we were trying to gather botanical samples like General Kenobi wanted. I saw some bright fruits up in a tree that looked promising and figured it wouldn’t be any problem to climb up and snag a few myself rather than waiting for the collection droid to make its way back around to our signal. I...may have misjudged the distance when I jumped the remaining way back down from the branch, and then…”

The trooper gestured despondently towards his sprained ankle, clearly miserable to have been taken off his assigned duty section due to a preventable injury. Cody approached closer and clapped his hand reassuringly down on Private Polk’s shoulder, gripping it tightly in solidarity. “You’ll know better for next time, won’t you?”

Polk nodded vigorously, his hands gripping the sheets of the cot, his mouth twisting with unhappiness.

“Now more than ever, we’ve got to take care of each other. We’re only ever as strong as our weakest link, so you’ve got to take care of yourself, let your brothers watch your back, and think things through to avoid getting yourself or someone else hurt. It’s the only way we’re going to make it out here. Understand?”

“Yes, sir!” Polk said, clearly still blaming himself for his failure to consider the risks of his actions before he leapt. “I just wish I was still out there helping to get things set up. There’s nothing worse than being cooped up in here when there’s work to be done out there!”

One corner of Cody’s mouth quirked up for a moment as he was forcibly reminded of how much Rex had always chafed at similar restrictions when he had had to deal with any kind of limiting injury. Even back on Kamino his brother had been filled with more energy than he knew what to do with, always ready to leap ahead and act at a moment's notice, with staggering amounts of skill and tactical brilliance to back up his boldness. Cody gave the trooper’s shoulder one more reassuring squeeze, then excused himself, nodding farewell to a distracted Lieutenant Dealer before seeing himself out of the medical tent and heading back towards the hull of the crashed ship.

Cody was torn between the conflicting impulses he had been struggling with for days: desperately glad that Rex and the other troopers on board the Resolute had been spared that gruesome collision they were on course for, angry and saddened that their brothers’ survival had been purchased with that harrowing week-long voyage in hyperspace and their current lost exile. And tangled up with it all was a confusing blend of terror stemming from their unknown future, an intense relief because they survived, and a powerful shame because for them, for now, the war was over.

He and his brothers marooned here were out of the fight. They had been given no choice in the matter, however the fact remained that for the foreseeable future, they would not be marching into the killing fields of this war, would not have to see ranks of their brothers falling dead at their sides as they pressed forward against unending hordes of battle droids. He had no idea when or even if he would ever make it back to the battlefield to fight at his brothers’ sides again.

The fluctuating waves of relief and guilt at the thought of never having to face that blood-soaked horror ever again, while at the same time grappling with their involuntary abandonment of their remaining brothers and the Jedi who fought alongside them, was already becoming a familiar point-counterpoint cadence in time with every beat of his heart.

Cody and all of his brothers had been designed and forged for battle, and a large part of him wanted nothing more than to see his life’s purpose fulfilled, to get back into the fight and strike down the enemy until the civilians living on worlds throughout the Republic could live out their lives in peace once again. But another part, one which had begun clamoring louder and louder ever since it had first occurred to him that rescue and return might not even be an option, would like nothing more than to grab hold of this chance for a life free from the never-ending cycle of violence and loss, free from the endless demands of leading this war.

The fact that his general was here with them and would have that same peaceful freedom forced upon him gives Cody an unmitigated shot of joy whenever he thinks of it. War was hell for everyone, but he and his brothers had been training and preparing for this their entire lives. They were soldiers and even outside of war, always would be.

Their Jedi were different. They had been trained to fight, had all studied advanced tactics and warfare as part of the standard curriculum in their rigorous life-long training program, but they weren’t _soldiers_. They had always been meant to be peacekeepers, not warfighters. It was difficult some days to suppress his resentment of the demands the people of the Republic increasingly heaped on the backs of the Jedi, while many of those same citizens all along embraced an irrational, ignorant view of their culture, scorning them as freaks, calling them baby-thieves and worse.

In the past he had always done his best to quell the persistent little voice that always sounded disconcertingly like Fives at his most disdainful. The voice that could see through Cody’s eyes and caustically observed that for all of the trillions of people that he and his brothers were fighting and dying for, only the tiniest handful were willing to put their own lives on the line alongside them, willing to march through the dust and the horror and leave bloody boot prints behind just like any other brother.

He knew the thoughts weren’t entirely fair. There were some peoples who fought when they were cornered, when the war was brought to their doorstep, like the Twi’leks who resisted their own annihilation at Separatist hands on Ryloth. There were planetary forces who were willing to die in defense of their homes. There were a handful of naturalborn officers who retained their commissions and continued to serve onboard the Republic’s Navy ships of the line.

But every clone also knew that was all less than a drop in the bucket that comprised the breadth of the Galactic Republic. And even then, those naturalborn citizens were held back in reserve for when the war reached their own homes and they had no choice but to act, or served in the relatively clean and safer reaches of space combat, rather than the front-line ground fighting that saw men cut down by the thousands every day.

It was only the Jedi who really fought beside them, led from the front, shielded them with their bodies and their blades. Some days it seemed like the Jedi were the only ones in the galaxy willing to stand and die by the hundreds and the thousands alongside the clone troopers while all the other peoples of the Republic stood back and offered meaningless platitudes of appreciation for their ‘service’. As if his brothers had been given any other option by the Senate’s Military Creation Act but to serve in the place of those unwilling to fight for themselves.

Some days it was hard indeed to stem the quiet voice in his mind that resented the passive, self-focused citizens of the Republic and their chosen government representatives who let his brothers and their Jedi die in their place so they could live their lives as undisturbed by the war raging across the galaxy as possible.

It was a voice that had been growing increasingly insistent as the months passed and he suffered more and more losses over the course of the war.

Perhaps here, he could finally find some of the peace he had begun to envy and crave. This planet was still largely unknown to them, but so far it seemed to be such a pure haven of light and hope. Perhaps here he would have a chance to finally begin letting that growing darkness and resentment go.

 

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The mood around camp was subdued as the sun crept closer toward the treeline and the time for the remembrance ceremony drew near. Working parties were released early so that the men could gather up and respectfully don their full armor kits. Groups flowed back together again in snaking lines of men as the troopers made their way between tents toward the clearing that had been designated for the purpose. The area had been prepared in advance; trees cut back and brush cleared away. About a dozen large cut logs had been arranged in a circle in the center where the officiants would step forward to take their places.

Obi-Wan knew that the bodies of the deceased would have already been quietly cremated earlier that afternoon. Had it been one of his own brethren who had fallen, the mourners would have gathered around the pyre to share their grief and bid their farewells. The clone troopers had never shared that particular practice.

The clones had entered the war with their own customs surrounding death and loss already fixed in place. Those practices had continued to evolve over the course of the war; each battalion, regiment, brigade, or corps further refining their own individual ceremonies to suit their specific circumstances and needs. They all stemmed from similar roots and shared certain features, but each unit now practiced their own unique expression of grief and celebration of life to mark the loss of their brothers.

Grief always struck Obi-Wan with a small pang when he considered that the disregard the clones placed on the physical bodies of the dead probably had a basis more driven by practical considerations than evolving naturally from sentiment. In such a large-scale existential war where the opposing side rarely agreed to ceasefires, there was almost never opportunity to safely gather the bodies of the fallen for rites; insisting on doing so would have only lead to the deaths of more men.

Their fallen brothers would have been the first to chide any one of them if such meaningless sentiment had led to the additional loss of even one more trooper that could have otherwise lived on to see the end of the war.

Most cultures around the galaxy had developed death rites focused around the disposal or preservation of the physical body after death. In contrast, the clones considered the bodies left behind by their brothers to be empty shells that had no place in a farewell ceremony. While the individual details of their ceremonies differed slightly from unit to unit, they were always centered around the spiritual path that the deceased would march along into eternity rather than focusing on the physical remnants that were left behind.

Regardless of how the outlook had formed, it had become one of the central tenets of their belief structure and neither Obi-Wan nor any Jedi would ever dream of disrespecting the burgeoning culture the clones were beginning to develop among themselves by telling them they were wrong for it.

The treeline had been cut back significantly to enlarge the natural clearing for the ceremony but the men still had to pack themselves in tightly to ensure there would be space for everyone to participate. The air was growing more chilled by the minute as the sun began to dip below the horizon, breaths becoming visible in little puffs of fog as men settled into their places.

A small group standing closely together in the center of the circle broke apart at a silent signal from one among them, separating to take their seats on the logs that had been readied for their use. Each one held a drum that they had fashioned themselves over the course of many campaigns. The instruments were diverse, constructed from all manner of materials, some reengineered for their own purposes from issued armor pieces or military vehicle parts, or even bartered for or claimed from the planets they had fought endless battles to protect throughout the Republic. Each one was unique to the trooper who held it, every rhythm and tone it was capable of producing long-since discovered and mastered.

As they settled into place, a solemn silence fell over the clearing, not so much as a restless rustle or cough to be heard among the gathered men. Obi-Wan found himself holding his breath in anticipation as the quiet grew and settled over the clearing like a thick syrup, holding them all in place and stretching out the moment.

Through the absolute stillness, the first beat of a drum echoed out into the night, breaking the silence and sounding out like the steady muted thrum of a heartbeat.

_Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump._

After a short pause, clear voices began to call out from the men gathered in the crowd. Each one paying tribute to one of the lost, weaving the words chosen by their brothers to encompass their identities into the tempo that the eternal drumbeat was setting. As each name was spoken, it immediately began to spread out in ripples, repeated again and again through the crowd in hundreds of echoes from the lips of their brothers left behind.  
_  
“Brikker.”_

_“Hoffman.”_

_“Janus.”_

_“King.”_

_“Cabot.”_

_“Reed”_

_“Graft.”_

More and more names were called out until each fallen brother had been recognized and called forth. It took some time for all of the names to ripple and circulate throughout the clearing, though not nearly as long as many other gatherings where fighting had been heavy on the ground and losses had been far more crippling.

Finally, the last of the murmurs faded away. For nearly a minute more, only the sound of the lone drum remained, a patient and unwavering pulse as each lost brother’s spirit was invited to join their comrades in arms one last time before being heralded away down their final path. The beat was slow, unhurried but inexorable. Obi-Wan could feel his own breath and heartbeat slowing in response to its insistent rhythm.

Then it began to grow.

That first drummer continued to pound his instrument in even, measured time as, one by one, other rhythms began to layer themselves over that guiding line. The other men seated in the center of the clearing each took up their instrument when the time felt right, building up the complexity of layers at a gradual, deliberate pace.

_Thump. Thump-pum. Thump, thump, thump. Thump. Thump, thump. Thump, thump, thump-pum-pum-pum._

More and more drums took up their own beats and the rhythm being created began to feel as if it was a living, breathing creature with a life of its own. Its lifeblood shimmered all around them in pulsing vibrations existing everywhere at once, within the trees surrounding them, the dirt under their feet, the stars just beginning to emerge in the darkening sky above. The very air they pulled into their lungs seemed to throb with the deeply layered tempo, the rich forest scent of it intermingled with their own evaporated breaths that they shared between one another, passing from one set of lungs to the next as they pressed shoulder to shoulder with their brothers.

Obi-Wan stood at Cody’s side, respectfully silent as he bowed his head and weathered the resonating pulses of grief and helpless anger that rose and fell in waves with the drumbeats. These funerals were an intensely private ceremony for the clone troopers, and Obi-Wan was as honored now to be invited to participate as he had been the first time his men had elected to include him in their rituals of grief. Every time, he was struck anew at how masterfully the troopers leading the percussive drum beats in the center of the circle allowed the music to rise and fall, ebb and flow, seeming to reach directly into the chests of the participants and pluck at their hearts to draw forth and release the powerful emotions that everyone there needed to find an outlet for.

Although, this ceremony seemed different from the others he had attended. There was something _more_ to it.

The Force began to feel unusually… _full_ for lack of a better word. It was almost as if something was causing the bonds that naturally formed between all life to become energized and enhanced, building up a complex web between them all, comprised of the feelings that every sentient used to connect to the Force, whether they were conscious of it or not. What Obi-Wan would normally be able to detect as fine, thread-like tendrils connecting one person to another, were instead manifesting as wide-open conduits saturating the space around them, linking everyone there at the ceremony to one another and to all of the life that surrounded them.

As the drumming continued, the men all around him swayed in place, brushing up against one another. Obi-Wan could feel grief and anger at their losses surging up in one final tidal swell, then being purged, followed by acceptance and release rising up and spilling over from the hearts of thousands of souls all around him.

He reached his hand out blindly towards Cody and found him already moving to meet him, their fingers intertwining smoothly like two magnets snapping seamlessly into place.

Everyone present was now connected to one another by an infinite, bewildering number of glowing golden threads. Fears and pain were soothed, as those who were suffering most were calmed by their steadier brothers and eased into accepting the present moment and releasing their anxieties centered around realities that could not now be shifted. Those who were struggling to control a rising inferno of anger in their hearts reached out to their more stable brothers for help to transmute it and shift away from the debilitating rage that would only bring suffering to its bearer, channeling it into a clear-eyed determination to move forward with grace.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and let himself melt into the sensation. He didn’t understand what was happening, but he knew it felt right. It felt good, and clean, and so, so _Light_. The Force he had drawn upon his whole life had felt muddied and corrupted for nearly as far back as he could remember, and the sensation had never before been so apparent as it was in this moment, surrounded as he was with such a pure, wholesome manifestation. Previously, he had instinctively always devoted some portion of energy to maintain barriers that helped hold back the insidious traces of corruption that had become so ubiquitous. Here and now, there was not the slightest trace of that slowly creeping corruption that had somehow slithered into their midst, put down roots, and become their new normal.

 _We were like a small Nabooian amphibian slowly being boiled to death in a cookpot_ ; the slowly dawning realization rose up like a bubble through Obi-Wan’s consciousness. The contrast he was experiencing between this untarnished spiritual transcendence and what he had become used to when opening his mind to the Force was suddenly obvious in a way that he had been utterly incapable of perceiving before.

Obi-Wan was rocked out of his disturbing contemplations when he felt Cody squeeze his fingers. Cody’s concern for him shimmered visibly through their newly forged link within the Force, carried on a wave of the all-encompassing love and respect the other man felt for him. Obi-Wan had always been able to perceive a shadow of those feelings, had sensed the vague shape of them, but now every molecule of his being rang with the pure certainty of his commander’s devotion. Rather than being troubled by the intensity of it, Obi-Wan felt nothing but reassured.

The perfect clarity they shared between them allowed him to see without any room for doubt that there was no shred of the possessive jealousy or self-focused demands that would lead to the dangers of attachment he had always been careful to steer his heart clear of. All he sensed was an open-ended adoration that he could accept with all his heart and was more than willing to return in kind.

For now, he would embrace this experience with everything he was. He let his mind go, simultaneously expanding to fill the whole clearing and contracting to the sensation of a single nerve. He could feel the love and support and boundless compassion of the men surrounding him and he let himself float away in the sheltering currents of the love they all felt towards one another.

 

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By the time Cody reached their shared tent the moon had marched far across the night sky, but was still shedding its green-tinged light softly across the camp. Cody had lingered until all of the last huddled groups of men had begun to break up and make their way back towards their own sleeping arrangements, ensuring no one still needed a steadying shoulder after the intense feelings they had all somehow been drawn into that evening. Part of him wanted to point the finger at their Jedi for the mystical experience that had swept them all up in its currents, but he had glanced over at the other man’s face when the first tendrils of connection had shimmered to life all around him, tying him to all of his brothers in a way he had never before known, and Obi-Wan had been as surprised as the rest of them at the phenomenon. More so, perhaps.

As mysterious as it all was, there was something about the feelings that he trusted, that made everything about his cautious nature crumble to dust; he somehow knew that there was nothing but goodness and compassion to be found by opening his arms to it. It had felt nothing but natural at the time, and he had fallen into the embrace of the soothing tides of that glowing golden ocean with as much joy as the rest of his brothers, grateful to let that perfect acceptance wash over him, to let go and allow those warm, bright waters to smooth away the worst of the jagged barbs that represented his fears and grief and anger.

Now, in the aftermath of whatever it had been, he felt good. Better than he had in years. Everything about his body, mind, and soul felt lighter, renewed and mended, as if he had finally shed the heavy stones his training and the war had been piling up on his shoulders all his life.

Obi-Wan had quietly ducked away earlier in the night once the more organized portions of the ceremony had concluded. Cody knew how much his general always appreciated being included in their gatherings as he bid farewell to their brothers as reverently as any of them, but once the comfort moved beyond the emotional and more into the physical, he had withdrawn as he usually did. Cody still wasn’t sure whether their general had always shied so diligently away from most opportunities for tactile contact because he found it genuinely uncomfortable, or if his avoidance had just been another means of keeping what he deemed a proper distance between himself and the men he commanded. He was looking forward to finding out, though.

He wanted to learn everything there was to know about the other man, to explore all of the ragged edges in their souls, to find where they could fit together and help each other grow and thrive in whatever corner of the galaxy their crazy lives ended up planting them in.

It was a short walk to the tent, and Cody entered it without fanfare, quickly securing the opening behind himself to keep the heat inside from escaping. Sometime during the day, he knew Obi-Wan had picked up the small solar-powered camp heater that had been in use the previous night and deposited it over at the medical tent, guilty for monopolizing what he saw as an unnecessary indulgence. But Cody had anticipated the move and secured another later that afternoon. He had set it up on one of the crates before departing for the ceremony, knowing he would be glad to have a warmed tent to return to. The salvage teams had secured enough of the devices from recovered encampment supplies over the course of the day that there was no need for anyone to go without.

Not even a ridiculously persistent ascetic Jedi monk, stubbornly allergic to anything resembling self-focused indulgence.

As expected, Obi-Wan was already settled in for the evening, stripped down to a simple, long-sleeved shirt appropriate for sleep, linen trousers that looked comfortably worn in, and a pair of thick, warm socks. He probably had no idea how fetching he looked in the ensemble. The loose fit of the tunic caused it to fall askew on one of his shoulders, revealing the enticing slope of his neck and just a hint of sharp collar bone peeking out from the wide collar.

Obi-Wan was sitting on a thin pad that he had situated between the two sturdy sleep cots that had made their way into the tent over the course of the day; yet another small luxury that their camp improvement efforts had been able to secure. Obi-Wan appeared to be deep in meditation for the moment, so Cody busied himself on the other side of the tent, quietly unbuckling his armor and stowing the pieces in a crate set aside for the purpose. When he was down to his blacks, he sat on one of the cots, pulling down the fastener a little to loosen his collar and letting his posture slump now that he could be sure he was unobserved.

When Obi-Wan eventually began to stir, Cody wasn’t sure how much time had passed, and wasn’t concerned enough to check. He had been more than content to sit and relax in the peaceful space, appreciating the opportunity to let his eyes roam freely across Obi-Wan’s features without fear of making the other man uncomfortable or self-conscious.

A small, genuine smile curved up Obi-Wan’s lips as he slowly blinked open his eyes, already oriented up to meet Cody’s own. His expression fell into lines of neutrality when Cody spoke.

“I think we need to talk.”

“Yes, I suppose we do,” Obi-Wan agreed with a little sigh, dropping his gaze to his lap where his hands were still neatly folded. Obi-Wan remained still for a few moments, then turned in place, twisting around and shuffling over until he was leaning back against the cot where Cody sat, his shoulders only inches away from his commander’s legs. “Would you like to start or shall I?”

“Whatever makes this more comfortable for you,” Cody said quietly. “We need to make sure we’re on the same sheet of flimsi with this before we take it any further, but the last thing I want is to create more stress for either of us.”

He wanted to reach out and touch; the other man was so close that his fingers were practically itching with the desire. He restrained himself. Not yet. Not until there was no room left for mixed signals and the air was truly clear between them.

“I’ll begin, then,” Obi-Wan said, his voice heavy, almost reluctant in tone. Cody couldn’t help but brace himself for disappointment.

“I have respected you as a man, a leader, and as a soldier since the day that we first met. Time has done nothing to temper that impression; over the years that we’ve fought side by side, I’ve only found more to admire within you. I think you are already aware that over time those feelings began to shift in a different direction. It always seemed like an impossibility before, with our roles in the war and the constant scrutiny. It felt selfish to even consider taking time away from my duties to explore something for my own gain when so many lives hung in the balance of our decisions every day. I couldn’t bear the thought that if I spoke up and you didn’t feel the same, that you might feel uncomfortable about the attention or felt in any way pressured to reciprocate, or if the prospect marred your impeccable professional reputation...well. I suppose it felt like there were all too many barriers before.”

“And now?” Cody prompted softly when there was a short pause, keeping his breath steady with deliberate effort.

“And now…” Obi-Wan paused again, drawing in a deep breath before releasing it in a quiet puff of air. Cody could feel his pulse thrumming in his veins, and his own breath caught when Obi-Wan leaned over a few inches, tilting his head to rest tentatively on Cody’s thigh. One hand wrapped around his calf with the barest hint of pressure, everything about the gestures seemingly poised to withdraw at the slightest hint of rejection. “Now it feels like a possibility. It feels like it might actually be the right time to try to explore something for myself. It’s difficult to convey how I interact with the Force and the ways in which it moves through me to someone who has nothing with which to compare it, but this feels so _right_ , Cody. It feels like something good and true finally snapping into place after years of creeping wrongness and filth.”

Cody’s heart was singing with joy, and he had a feeling the Jedi sitting at his feet could already feel his own love and acceptance based on the way that hand wrapped around his leg tightened, how that bearded cheek nuzzled more confidently against his thigh.

“And in what directions would you want to explore a relationship?” Cody asked, not willing to leave anything open to misinterpretation. There were many ways to build a loving partnership without bringing sex into it. While that wouldn’t be Cody’s first choice, he needed to know what Obi-Wan was interested in before making any declarations of his own.

“In all directions - I want to be intimate with you, I have for some time. My life in recent years has been... quite hectic and I’ve seldom had opportunity and, frankly, usually very little interest in acting on such impulses, so I hope you won’t be terribly disappointed if I am lacking in the experience you are used—”

Obi-Wan’s voice, which had grown hesitant at the last few sentences in a way that pained Cody to hear, trailed off as Cody couldn’t help but reach down and run his fingers reassuringly through that thick, lovely hair.

“I want to be with _you_ , Obi-Wan,” Cody said, interrupting the words before they could wander any further down into self-deprecating thickets. “Skill level has nothing to do with it. Whatever we choose to explore together will be right for us, and will feel good to me, because it’s you. It will be _us_.”

Cody reached down and laid one hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder, grasping it tightly and preparing to speak his own piece. He stilled when Obi-Wan rested his fingertips on his hand, silently requesting another moment to gather his thoughts.

“I’m not quite done.” If possible, his voice was even more hesitant than it had been a moment before. “I have so much love in my heart for you. I care for you in a way that I’ve felt for few others in all my life. But I am still a Jedi, and I always will be. Please understand that the Order does not condemn such feelings, they do not forbid them; the love and affection I feel for you is natural, and such bonds are an important part of nearly every sentient’s emotional well-being.

“But I will never be able to give you what many beings in the galaxy crave. The way of life I choose to follow means that there is no one person I will ever place above the welfare of our community as a whole. Even if we move forward with this, I will still strive to never compromise my ideals due to an emotional response, not even for one I love so dearly as you. I find myself worried that you may come to regret forming a connection with me in the long run, that you will not be able to find the personal fulfillment you deserve if we move forward with this and you come to expect more than I am willing to give.”

“Oh, Obi-Wan,” Cody sighed, his fingers never stilling in their strokes through the other man’s hair. If it had been possible, he suspects he would have fallen even deeper in love with the man at his feet for the forthrightness of that declaration.

Cody couldn’t help but lean forward to press an impulsive kiss against the top of his foolish Jedi’s head. He had a feeling some portion of the fond exasperation he was feeling was being broadcast loud and clear from the way the man below him stiffened and huffed in mock-offense.

“Who do you think you’re dealing with here?” Cody straightened up again and laid both his hands solidly on the shoulders below him, gripping them tightly in reassurance. “After the years we’ve spent at one another’s sides, I’d hope you understood I know you better than to be surprised by that. I love and respect you too much to ever ask you to change something so intrinsic to yourself. Your devotion to duty and dedication to service aren’t sides of your soul I’ll need to learn to cope with; they’re your most beautiful features that are part of what I fell in love with from the start. Do you think it grieves me to hear that you’ll keep the bulk of your heart and compassion centered around the community we’re building here? How could it, when it aligns so perfectly with my own priorities to take care of all my brothers trapped here with us?

“You can love me as freely as you need. We both know it’s no less real just because it’s not a laser-blast focused on me exclusively. As long as there is love on both sides, we can figure out the rest one step at a time.”

“That sounds good to me,” Obi-Wan said, something that sounded a great deal like relief in his voice. “In fact, that sounds incredibly wonderful.”

“And now?” Cody said, not wanting to push the other man, but needing to ask. “Do you want to try to take this anywhere tonight?”

“I—yes.” There was a certain quality of breathless anticipation in Obi-Wan’s voice that had Cody’s pulse jumping in his throat. “That is, only if you want to as well, of course.”

Cody couldn’t entirely hold back the chuckle that broke free at the words, the thought of _not_ desiring the man seated below him in every way so inconceivable he could only laugh at the idea.

“For me, the answer to that question will always be yes.” Cody let his hands drift from where they still rested on Obi-Wan’s shoulders, shifting one of them up to lightly run his thumb over the rapidly accelerating pulse, the other sliding down under that loose collar to touch the solid muscle underneath with a firm caress. “How far do you want this to go?”

“As far as our desire takes us. I want to make you feel good,” Obi-Wan said, his voice shaking with the intensity of the sensations that were rushing through him. “What do you want?”

“I want _everything_ ,” Cody growled, a burst of heat surging through his veins at the open-ended offer. He curled his fingers a little, scratching his nails lightly back up the path his fingers had traveled across Obi-Wan’s chest, loving the sharply indrawn breath it won him. “If you have any limits, I need you to tell me now.”

“I don’t— I just want _you_ Cody, please. Whatever you want. I promise I’ll let you know if I want you to stop.”

That would have to be good enough.

Cody’s _beskar_ -strong will had crumbled the moment that desperate ‘ _please_ ’ broke through Obi-Wan’s lips.

Cody held out one hand, palm up, waiting patiently through the beat of hesitation before Obi-Wan reached back and pressed his own into it. They clasped their fingers tightly together, Cody pulling up a little to urge the other man to join him on the elevated cot. Obi-Wan complied with the wordless suggestion, immediately situating himself next to Cody closely enough that they were pressed together tightly at multiple points. Cody felt hyper aware of the places where their thighs and hips and shoulders rested against one another. That firm press of taut muscle against his own and the warmth of the other man’s skin, even through the barriers of cloth that still separated them, was already enough to send sparks of arousal shuddering through him.

Cody turned so he was oriented more towards Obi-Wan, maintaining as much of that delicious contact between their bodies as he could, and reached out to trail his fingertips across the planes of his general’s lovely face. He ran his fingers gently along the delicate curve of Obi-Wan’s cheekbone, tracing the edges of his carefully trimmed beard and then moving over it. His eyes followed the same path his fingers were traveling, studying the familiar features that he suddenly felt like he was discovering for the first time. He realized he was holding his breath and huffed out an unsteady exhale even as he watched Obi-Wan’s eyes flutter shut, the other man biting his lip and tilting his head a little to the side to welcome more of those reverent, tender touches.

There was another barely detectable moment of hesitation when Cody’s fingers came to rest at the underside of Obi-Wan’s chin, pressing up that tiny amount needed to position those lips just where he wanted them.

The mustache tickled against his lips just as much as he always thought it would, little prickles of sensation that he catalogued and savored even as he patiently coaxed the mouth under his with slow, shallow movements at first. It only took a few seconds before Obi-Wan leaned into the kiss, deepening it, his hands coming up to rest lightly against Cody’s shoulders, his mouth moving unpracticed but fervent against Cody’s own. When those tempting lips parted, he was quick to take the offered ground, his tongue slipping into the other man’s mouth to steal a taste he had never known but had been craving for years.

He would have smiled with satisfaction at the eager gasp if his mouth had not been otherwise occupied, his tongue darting about to explore while his hands were busy elsewhere.

Eventually they parted just long enough to stand and disrobe, the process slower than it should have been, both pausing to interrupt the other again and again with hungry kisses. Each article of clothing was tossed carelessly across the tent as they were hastily removed, neither of them particularly body shy after a lifetime of shared accommodations.

Cody took hold of Obi-Wan’s upper arms once they were both fully bared, guiding him over until he was seated back on the cot. He pulled the meditation mat closer, kneeling down on the thin pad and leaning in close, moving his hands down to Obi-Wan’s knees and applying gentle pressure to ease them open, pushing his body forward into the space created. He remained mindful of Obi-Wan's injured leg, putting no more force against the joint than could easily be accommodated. Fortunately, he had shared enough gym time with his Jedi to know just how flexible the other man naturally was, even taking into account the sprain.

“Move the pillows behind you and lean back,” Cody murmured, nuzzling happily against the soft, pale skin of Obi-Wan’s inner thigh. “You let me know right away if anything doesn’t feel right.”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan replied breathily. “I’m fine, my leg is fine, it doesn’t hurt.”

His hands moved with purpose, caressing those strong thighs firmly enough to avoid tickling, circling around until he could grip each leg, pressing them open even wider to push his shoulders forward, lifting Obi-Wan’s legs up and tilting his pelvis forward, making plenty of room for himself just where he wanted.

The move gave him a lovely view, exposing everything for him to see. Obi-Wan’s cock fell into a different position as his hips were tilted up; it was fully hard and flushed pink, a little longer but far more slender than the typical size and shape Cody was so intimately familiar with. It twitched impatiently under his gaze, a drop of fluid already beginning to form at the tip. Cody’s fingers tightened with want, his tongue darting out to lick his lips, eager to finally get a taste of the man he had desired for so long.

He could hear slight rustling noises above as Obi-Wan moved, rearranging the two pillows and piled up blankets behind him so that when he leaned back his torso was braced but still elevated on the cot. Cody reacted quickly when he sensed that movement, gripping the legs he was holding tightly to keep Obi-Wan stable, leaning forward to press a kiss against that stomach as it tensed into the movement. He used his tongue to trace the defined lines of Obi-Wan’s abdomen as the muscles flexed to ease himself backwards, savoring the subtle tang of sweat and skin as he licked and kissed his way across his lover’s stomach.

Obi-Wan curled up immediately with a quickly-muffled moan at the sensations, resulting in even more delightful ripples for Cody’s tongue to explore. Obi-Wan’s hands came to rest in his hair, running his fingers through it and curving them against his skull in restless movements as Cody continued to lave his stomach, slowly making his way downward towards his goal.

“You don’t have to,” Obi-Wan said, his hands torn between twitching to gently restrain his progress and the urge to press him onward more quickly. “Cody, please, you don’t—”

“I _want_ to, Obi-Wan,” Cody growled, a bolt of passion surging in his blood, urging him to bare his teeth and bite down on a patch of skin, to scrape them against one of those delectable little knobs of bone poking up at Obi-Wan’s hip. His Jedi made a sound of pure want at the sharp contrast, so Cody did it again, intent on pulling more such noises out of the normally reserved man. “I’ve wanted to taste you, to _have_ you for years. Will you let me have this? Give yourself to me, please.”

Obi-Wan’s fingers clenched tightly in his hair for a moment at the words, nearly to the point of pain before he relaxed all at once, his hands falling away to lay palm-up on the cot beside him, his legs going lax to rest trustingly in Cody’s strong grip.

“Of course, I’m yours,” Obi-Wan said, his voice subdued but sounding less overwhelmed than it had moments before, still saturated with pleasure and affection, but somehow now at peace. “Whatever I am free to give will always be yours.”

“Good,” Cody murmured, his lips resting just above that neatly trimmed patch of ginger hair as he spoke. “That’s good, sweetheart, thank you.”

Each syllable fluttered his lips against that sensitive skin. He wasn’t sure if it was the words themselves or the butterfly-soft caresses that caused the violent shudder of pleasure to shake through his Jedi. The potential there was certainly something he meant to explore in depth eventually. For now, he had a more immediate goal, one he had already waited far too long to realize.

It was as if a switch had been flipped in his mind and suddenly he could not bear to wait another moment to get his lips around that cock that he could practically taste already. Normally with his partners, he preferred to draw out the pleasure with teasing little licks and kisses to start things off. He had always enjoyed the process of discovering of how many unique noises of mingled appreciation and frustration he could wring out of his lovers while still keeping them fully engaged and building them both up to a satisfying finish.

This time, he had no patience for such niceties.

He ducked his head down, pausing just long enough to wet his lips again and draw in a deep breath through his nose before closing his mouth around the head of that lovely cock, swallowing once and bobbing his head down sharply to fit as much in as he could in one go. He paused when he was a few inches deep, just shy of hitting the back of his throat, distantly registering the punched-out noise of pleasure Obi-Wan coughed out above him. He shifted around, situating himself a little more comfortably, and then bobbed his head lower, shaking his head a little side to side and swallowing again, pressing down relentlessly to ease his mouthful in further until his lips were being tickled by those neatly groomed pubic hairs.

Cody paused there for a few heartbeats, well-practiced at suppressing his gag reflex on demand, just savoring the taste and scent and sensations surrounding him, utterly filled up and loving every second of it. He could feel Obi-Wan shaking like a leaf in his hands, his hips twitching in aborted little thrusts that he was barely managing to keep under control. Perhaps his Jedi would be interested in experimenting with restraints at some point, really give him the opportunity to let loose on the physical side without needing to worry about any potential consequences if he struggled or squirmed.

He couldn’t entirely stifle the groan of want that the thought pulled out of him, turning it into a more deliberate hum when he realized the effect the vibrations were having on his lover. He pulled his mouth back slowly, until his lips were barely covering the tip of Obi-Wan’s erection, pursing his mouth over just the head and sucking strongly there, one hand coming up to hold and squeeze at the base, slicking his fingers up with the remnants of saliva left behind. He pulsed his tongue against the sensitive cluster of nerves underneath, enjoying the taste of the bitter drops of pre-come that spilled out nearly as much as he did the sharp, unrestrained cry of pleasure it elicited.

It was perhaps wrong of him, but he couldn’t help feeling a burst of territorial pride in his own prowess as he realized that one had definitely been loud enough for those resting in neighboring tents to have heard. Their Jedi was desired by so many, including a significant majority of the troopers he worked with every day, that it had become something of a running joke among the GAR over the past several years. Cody would never try to control Obi-Wan or prevent him from sharing himself with whoever he wanted to invite into his life, but it was an undeniable boost to his ego to know that his Jedi had chosen _him_ first and foremost; that whoever else had this in the past or would in the future, he was here crying out for Cody tonight, and by tomorrow all of his brothers would _know_ it.

Nearly feverish with want by now, he flared his nostrils wide and drew in a deep breath, bobbing his head down low again, not stopping until he could feel skin against his lips, repeating the motion over and over again, his hands clamping down with bruising strength against the legs he held restrained up by his own shoulders. He didn’t want to slow down, couldn’t think of any reason why he should, every atom of him focused on drawing Obi-Wan’s pleasure to the surface, on getting him there right _now_ , on experiencing what his orgasm would taste like, feel like.

Cody felt those thighs clamping tight around him of their own volition, so he let them go, bringing one hand up, tracing and caressing the rippling muscles on Obi-Wan’s abdomen that were growing more and more tense with every rhythmic bob of Cody’s head. He slid his spit-slick hand down with a more direct focus, his thumb positioning to immediately press up firmly against that little patch of skin just behind Obi-Wan’s balls, his fingers stretching out to explore further back. When his middle finger found what he was seeking, he had barely begun to apply pressure against that tight little hole when Obi-Wan seized up with a cry, his legs tightening around Cody’s head, his cock twitching and releasing another tiny pulse of bitter fluid against his tongue, his body curling all the way up and his hands raising to bury themselves in Cody’s hair and cling tight.

He pulled his mouth away from Obi-Wan’s cock, immediately obeying the insistent tugs against his hair, concerned at the way the man in arms had begun to shake in a way that spoke more of discomfort than it did of passion. He lifted both hands away from the more sensitive areas to touch the legs that were now wrapped too-tightly around him, rubbing in long soothing strokes in an attempt to relax him.

“Too much,” Obi-Wan stuttered out quickly. “Sorry, I’m sorry, it was just… too fast, it caught me off guard.”

“Shhh, no Obi-Wan, it’s fine, there’s never any need for apologies,” Cody reassured, avidly attentive to any sign that Obi-Wan wanted him to back off and give him space. From the way his Jedi was still clinging to him like a Mon Cala limpet, he was reasonably sure his gentling touches were still welcome. “I got a little carried away there. Do you want to stop?”

“No!” Obi-Wan nearly shouted, his voice a little rough. Cody wasn’t sure how it was possible but he managed to cling even tighter to him at the suggestion. “No, I don’t want to stop. Just…perhaps a little slower? And…”

“If you need slower, we can certainly do slower. And?” Cody prompted, turning his head to press a kiss against the trembling skin there as Obi-Wan finally began to relax against him, obviously making a deliberate effort to ease each of his clenched muscles in turn as he breathed deeply and regained his mental balance.

“And perhaps closer?”

Cody smiled at the suggestion, more than happy to comply. Now that he had a chance to catch his own breath, he was grateful that Obi-Wan had stepped on the decelerator. This was their first time together in this way. It was only proper they take a little extra time to get it right.

He reached up and caught Obi-Wan’s hands in his own, easing them out of his hair and pressing a kiss to each one before laying them down on the cot at his sides. He did the same to his legs, holding them firmly and encouraging them to release their hold around him as he shifted his body to let Obi-Wan’s feet fall flat against the ground.

“Here,” Cody said, “up you go.”

Cody got his feet under him and crouched up to get a better angle, then looped one arm under Obi-Wan’s shins, the other cradling behind his neck so that as he lifted his legs and turned to lay him out on the cot, he could ease Obi-Wan’s head down gently at the other end. As soon as his legs were situated, Cody grabbed one of the pillows that was teetering on the verge of falling off entirely and tucked it under Obi-Wan’s head, leaning down over him as he did to press an affectionate kiss against his forehead.

Obi-Wan surprised him by shooting his own hand out, wrapping it around the back of Cody’s neck to keep him close, pulling him down to meet his mouth in a hungry kiss. Cody was immediately on board with the program, pressing down eagerly to reciprocate. He carefully lowered himself onto the cot, not wanting to unbalance the thing at this point, his hands set down one after another on either side of Obi-Wan’s shoulders to brace himself up, one knee tucked against Obi-Wan’s closest hip while he swung his other leg over to straddle his lap.

He opened his mouth wider and sealed their lips together, chasing Obi-Wan’s tongue into his mouth hungrily at the same moment he pressed down firmly with his hips, eagerly swallowing the surprised gasp of pleasure as he gave Obi-Wan’s sensitive cock pressure and friction just where it felt most good.

Cody kept one hand braced up by Obi-Wan’s head, relishing the slight burn in his muscles as it held up the weight of his upper body, his other hand moving down to reposition and curl around both of their cocks, pressing them together as he began to slowly move, barely thrusting at first, just enough motion to tease the other man with the potential for more. Obi-Wan curled his good leg up around Cody’s hip, pressing them closer together, his injured leg remaining stretched out on the cot with his toes curling periodically when a particularly strong surge of pleasure shot through him. Cody watched with burning eyes as Obi-Wan reached up to curl a hand reverently around Cody’s bicep, his fingers caressing the sharply defined muscle as it held him suspended above.

“Closer, please,” Obi-Wan whispered, his hips beginning to thrust up in helpless little motions. “I want to feel you.”

Cody dropped down until he was braced only on his elbow, his other hand still occupied below, focused on building up a steady dam of pleasure with gradually tighter strokes of his fist, steady thrusts of his hips. He could feel the release beginning to coil inevitably down low in his groin and knew Obi-Wan was right there with him.

He cupped his hand around the back of Obi-Wan’s neck and squeezed firmly there, cradling that vulnerable point and lightly scratching his fingernails along the neatly trimmed hairline, a burst of pleasure rushing through him when Obi-Wan arched his back into the caress, leaning his head back further into Cody’s grip with an unrestrained moan of pleasure and baring his throat in one long curve.

Cody didn’t have much range of motion with only one hand free and still bracing most of his weight on his elbow, but he didn’t need much; Obi-Wan was being perfect, so good for him, moving just as he was being urged and no further. He watched, mesmerized, as Obi-Wan’s throat flexed with a swallow, his head still thrown back and resting trustingly in Cody’s palm, the defined muscles of the Jedi’s shoulders and chest clenching and releasing as he shuddered, twitching impatiently under Cody and clenching his fists into the blankets that were hopelessly tangled around their sides.

Now that was a truly lovely sight.

Cody shifted his hand up just a little bit further until he could gather up a firm handful of hair and closed his fingers around it. Tugging lightly, and watching his partner for any hint of discomfort, he leaned in until his lips were barely brushing against Obi-Wan’s left ear.

“Hmmmmm?” he hummed in question, running his tongue lightly around the delicate shell of Obi-Wan’s ear, closing his lips around the lobe and sucking lightly, before drawing back for more teasing kisses and feather-light strokes of his tongue, viscerally satisfied when each one elicited a shudder of pleasure.

Obi-Wan’s mouth was hanging open, his breath ragged, and he had to visibly gather himself before he was able to respond. “Yes, please Cody, like that, that’s good.”

Cody couldn’t quite restrain his fierce grin at the gasped words, pressing his bared teeth against the smooth throat in front of him, glorying in the helpless shudder of pleasure that shook through his Jedi at the sensation. He pulled back for just a moment to gauge exactly where the high collar of his lover’s uniform would cover, and latched his mouth on to a point just below that, grazing his teeth across and biting down just hard enough to make his point before sealing his lips around the patch of skin.

Cody relished the soft cry that drew out of the man he held pinned, loving the way his whole body arched up into the sensation. Cody couldn’t help but give the hair still held in his fist another, stronger pull, drawing Obi-Wan’s head back even further to bare more of that deliciously vulnerable throat. Cody drew back for a moment, admiring his work, leaning back down to run his lips lightly over the vivid red mark he left behind.

Cody finally gave in to the shaking in his arm and let his weight drop down fully onto Obi-Wan, pulling his hand out from between them as he lost the space needed to move it. Obi-Wan’s arms immediately reached up and twined around his neck with a greedy sound, eager to accept the full-body skin contact. He tightened both his legs around Obi-Wan’s, pressing them as closely together as he could and began an undulating thrusting movement, careful to keep Obi-Wan’s erection pressed up against his own between their stomachs so that both of them would get as much friction as they needed.

“Are you close, Obi-Wan?” Cody’s own voice was ragged now. “Are you ready?”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan gasped out, his eyes squeezed shut, his fingers clenching spasmodically open and closed, grasping tight around Cody’s shoulders. “Yes, I’m close, I’m ready, please, _please_ , this time I’m ready.”

“I want you to come for me,” Cody growled, his eyes fixed on Obi-Wan’s face. “Look at me. Look at me when you come.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes flew open wide at the words, staring straight into Cody’s burning gaze. His mouth fell open in a wordless, shuddering gasp as his entire body shook, then tensed up and spasmed, a rush of fluid spurting out between them and slicking up their stomachs as Cody continued to thrust feverishly against him. A loud cry finally escaped him, his eyes beginning to flutter shut in overwhelmed pleasure as his orgasm crested and remained on that intense plateau of sensation, prolonged by the ongoing stimulation. Cody reached up and gripped his chin firmly, shaking his face gently but insistently. Obi-Wan knew exactly what he wanted, managing to blink his eyes open and focus them again through the waves of pleasure that were still engulfing him, maintaining that intent eye contact. With one final snarl, Cody punched his hips down again once, twice, then a final time, reveling in the helpless cries of overstimulated pleasure he was forcing out of Obi-Wan’s mouth as his own orgasm exploded out of him.

He let himself fall onto his side, some of his weight on the cot beside Obi-Wan but most of it falling straight down onto the other man. He ignored the exaggerated little ‘oof’ that his Jedi huffed out at the movement. His body was still tingling pleasantly with aftershocks and even after he realized he was doing it he couldn’t seem to wipe what was definitely a ridiculously sappy smile off of his face. He reached out with two fingers to idly swipe through the mingled mess of seed that had accumulated on Obi-Wan’s stomach, a primal part of him relishing the chance to smear the proof of their combined pleasure against his lover’s skin.

Obi-Wan pressed a light kiss against Cody’s shoulder then rolled to his feet, ignoring Cody’s half-hearted grumbles of discontent as he rifled through one of the rucksacks stacked against the back wall of the tent. He pulled out a clean rag, wetting it with one of their canteens and efficiently rubbing himself down before preparing a second and walking the short distance back to join Cody at the cot. Obi-Wan ran the cloth gently across the planes of Cody’s face, wiping away the sweat that had gathered there, until Cody reached out and took the cloth from him, finishing the job over the rest of his body with a few quick swipes to pick up the worst of the remaining mess.

He tossed the soiled cloth to the side carelessly, taking hold of Obi-Wan’s wrist and drawing his unresisting form back down. Two grown men together in the cot was a tight fit, but Obi-Wan was slighter than a clone, and Cody was well-used to accommodating that precise amount of space with one of his brothers. He tucked Obi-Wan tight against him, conforming his body to curve closely along Obi-Wan’s back, wrapping one arm snugly around his waist. Cody pressed his nose against the base of Obi-Wan’s neck and breathed deeply, surrounding all of his senses with pleasure and safety, letting himself relax into their shared embrace.

Obi-Wan took hold of the arm circling his middle, bringing Cody’s hand up to his lips for one last caress before letting it fall back into a comfortable position. Cody could feel the moment when the last of the tension in the other man released, his spine loosening and his body easing back bonelessly against the warmth of the man behind him.

Cody was warm, safe, and his body was still buzzing pleasantly with perfect satiation for the first time in weeks. He had fallen into a light doze when Obi-Wan’s voice stirred him back to lazy attention.

“You know,” he said, his voice far too alert and thoughtful given the circumstances. “We should begin to think about abolishing military ranks entirely given our current situation. We need to think about the community we are going to build together, and making decisions to shape that future for us all based on the previously established chain of command seems entirely inappropriate. Perhaps some form of democratically elected committees--”

Cody heroically held back a groan of exasperation, propping himself up on one elbow and reaching around to firmly grasp hold of Obi-Wan’s chin. He pulled him around, meeting his lips with a long, devouring kiss that was reciprocated with a heady eagerness that managed to stoke a spark of arousal despite his exhausted state.

He pulled away when the need for air grew too urgent to ignore, entirely satisfied by the dazed pleasure that now glazed his Jedi’s eyes, the way his lips, shining and slightly swollen, hung open in slack pleasure for several seconds after the kiss ended.

This method of silencing his general’s pontifications was _exactly_ as satisfying as he had always fantasized it would be.

“Tomorrow, my love,” Cody said, leaning down and watching Obi-Wan’s eyes fall closed as he drew near, the lashes brushing gently against his cheeks as Cody pressed soft kisses down over his eyelids. He lay back down with satisfaction as the other man let his body relax back against his once more. “We have all of our tomorrows to start building our new future. For now just sleep.”

 

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_He curled his bare toes with a smile, burying them deeper into the rich, brown soil he found himself standing in. The earth here had been recently tilled and Mace closed his eyes, letting himself sink down into the buzzing warmth of life nestled in the fields around him, thousands of tiny seedlings just beginning to unfurl into existence, a glorious infusion of vibrant energy to be woven into the tapestry of the Living Force. They overlapped endlessly with the ghostly echoes of possibilities he could sense shifting between it all, manifesting as whispers of futures still to come and lost potential for paths untraveled within the Cosmic Force that called for his attention even now._

_It was a comfortingly familiar reassurance of the enduring spirit of all that was natural and good, and a dizzying rush of intensity all at the same time. Coruscant was teeming with life in its own way, but it had been far too long since Mace had a chance to retreat from the turbulence that thrived in urban centers and renew himself with this deeper connection possible only in a simpler place. Mace drew back into himself, steadying himself by drawing on the physical sensations surrounding him, strangely muted, but enough to ground him back into his own mind and body. The soil was loose and soft, pressing densely against the soles of his feet, tickling gently between his toes. The air was fragrant as he breathed in deeply, a gentle breeze bringing scents of recent rainshowers, flowering plants, and bitter crushed herbs._

_He blinked his eyes open when he heard a quiet voice begin to hum the opening chords of a familiar creche lullaby, the sound somehow projected in waves outwards through the Force just as much as it traveled in vibrations through the air. The song wove itself harmoniously through the shining threads of young, growing life all around them, encouraging the tiny seedlings gently onward towards the warm sunlight they instinctively sought._

_Mace turned his head slowly to look, finding himself in no particular hurry to find out who was occupying this space with him. It felt strange, but good, to find himself reacting without the need for haste, without the life or death urgency that had overtaken so much of his existence in recent years._

_It took him a moment to place the other man; it had been nearly five years since he had last seen Jedi Master Feemor Lorras in person, and he had let his glossy black hair grow out from its previously short length in the interim. The neatly braided hair pulled back from his face and his focused concentration on the task before him lent him an unfamiliar air of sternness. He evidently still preferred the dark browns and tans favored by the Agricorps members that he worked so closely with, having chosen to specialize in crop production, land dispute resolution, and colonist re-settlement since the day he reached his own Knighthood decades ago. When he looked up and spotted Mace standing nearby, the illusion of severity was immediately broken, Feemor’s face crinkling up into a wide, welcoming smile, genuine kindness apparent in every aspect._

_His spirit in the Force had always felt like the banked embers of a hearthfire, comfortable and nurturing, now effortlessly drawing Mace in closer to his orbit and stirring him to return the smile with one of his own._

_When he saw what Feemor was doing, he crouched down low to help, immediately recognizing the need for it. His hands seemed to know their task without any further input, so he allowed himself time to look around with a more discerning eye as his fingers sorted deftly through the stakes, string, and dense netting laid out before him._

_“There’s a storm coming,” he said, not liking the look of the low, dark clouds massing in the distance. Mace busied his hands with the work of setting up simple barriers to protect the vulnerable young plants from the violence of the oncoming storm, but even as he could see the progress he was making, he somehow knew the work was futile. An ominous roll of thunder followed by a bright flash of lightning in the distance seemed to underscore his realization._

_“I’m not surprised she called out to you,” Feemor said, the low rumble of his voice sliding seamlessly into the rhythm of the work they had fallen companionably into. “I sense she has been a protector herself since she first awoke, and the two of you are natural kindred in that regard. I’m far less clear on why I find myself here in such company.”_

_Mace looked over at the Jedi Master working beside him, taking a moment to admire the steady confidence with which he approached the task before him, his hands gentle and skilled. The genuine humbleness of his words even as he demonstrated his prodigious talents in his chosen field embodied an ideal that all Jedi should strive for. Mace narrowed his eyes intently, looking closer yet, reaching out deeper into the Force, and began to see the complex latticework of energy that flowed naturally between the two of them in this place. There was a synergy here that was important, if only he could grasp it._

_He let himself pause in his urgent work, closing his eyes and taking a moment to just breathe. At first it was an uncomfortable sensation; Mace couldn’t help but feel as if by allowing himself a moment of peace to pause his efforts, rather than doing everything possible within each moment to try and avert a terrible outcome, he was losing ground to the dreadful force behind that oncoming storm._

_This time, he didn’t heed it._

_He may be experiencing something like a vision, but this was also just a dream and Mace was wise enough to know the difference. The sense of urgency here was just an illusion. His every waking moment was permeated with exactly that sort of rushed pressure, forcing him and the others fighting to protect the Republic to make decisions within too-short time windows and never enough information. Here, though, there were no lives literally depending on the speed and soundness of his actions, thousands would not die if he stopped and took his time to truly sink into the Force and just let himself drift on its peaceful currents without hasty need lashing him forward._

_Despite Feemor’s words, Mace understood why the two of them in particular had come to share this strange half-vision together. This place was somehow amplifying, extending, and connecting their natural bonds to the Force and to each other, combining their respective strengths into something uniquely profound. Master Feemor’s spirit pulsed with the steady, grounded light of the Living Force, sinking deep roots into all of the natural life that surrounded them. If he had been able to project outside of himself, Mace knew he would have seen his own connection to the Cosmic Force vibrant with color, manifesting with a more ephemeral energy, dancing nimbly across the layers of potentialities and diverging paths within the multi-verse as strong, sweeping waves of his focus shifted from one moment to the next._

_Mace suddenly knew that he could reach down along that shared bond and, together, they would be able to experience a connection to something unlike anything the universe had ever known._

_He opened his eyes and looked up, finding the same understanding already filling Feemor’s face. Both men physically reached out simultaneously, burying their hands into that rich, life-bringing soil, mirroring the gestures they were making with their feelings into the Force at the same time._

_And then._

_She was there._

_All around them._

_Within them._

_An inconceivably vast presence that engulfed and eclipsed their spirits until they seemed like mere motes of dust on the surface of a sun. She cradled them as carefully as she was capable of, but both knew it would take only a moment of carelessness for their tiny sparks to be snuffed out of existence._

_She did not speak. Language was too small to conceptualize the complexities of the ideas she conveyed._

_But still, they understood._

  

> _Corruption. Despair. A terrible acidic rain sweeping across the cosmos leaving only smoking ruin and salted earth in its wake rather than a renewal of fresh beginnings._

 

_Mace wanted to clap his hands over his ears at the overwhelming sensation, but knew the gesture would be pointless. This being’s presence was touching them in a place far beyond the physical._

_He saw Feemor, tense and trembling, clearly as overcome by the experience as he was himself. When the other man shuffled forward, reaching out with shaking hands, Mace welcomed his embrace, clinging back to him just as tightly._

  

> _Jagged clouds seethed and writhed, forming unnatural, disturbing patterns as they raced forward, ever expanding, their momentum as unstoppable and inevitable as the tides. The oncoming darkness would sweep away all in its path, drowning any who tried to stand and resist within its muddy waters._

 

_The storm was nearly upon them, its shadow already reaching out greedy fingers to grasp and tear at everything they had both spent their lifetimes trying to protect and nurture. They could only hold one another close, each striving to bolster the other with their strength as the leading edge struck, stinging pellets of rain and ice tearing at their robes, their skin._

  

> _A familiar light blazed out into the stormy darkness before them, a blinding nova of power and purpose, at first stalwart and refusing to bend before the chaos, then crackling apart into a cascading burst of confusion, fear, greed, and rage. As that light scattered and died, it split apart into streaks of toxic red lightning, flashing down in spears of deadly light, driving into the fields around them and withering the new life that had filled him with such hope for the future only moments before._

 

_Every being projected a unique signature within the Force, a sense of themselves that could not be forged or mistaken. Mace wanted to weep with despair as he recognized the unmistakable aura of Anakin Skywalker, the young man’s spirit blackened and charred nearly beyond recognition by his own dark choices._

_Mace gave in and bowed his head, hiding his face against Feemor’s shoulder, trembling as the cosmic, living being conveyed the immense concepts it fully understood into more limited terms their simple minds could accept. He wanted to protest. Surely they were not doomed yet. The Chosen One still walked in the Light. There were so many beings throughout the galaxy just trying to live out their lives in peace. If the Jedi and their allies just reached farther, tried harder, sacrificed more, perhaps then it would be enough…_

  

> _A great clang rattled through their bones, as if the spiked jaws of a cruel durasteel trap had just slammed shut around them. The darkness surrounding them was now complete._  

 

_The terrible finality conveyed within that last sentiment shook Mace to the core. If they remained within the storm’s grasp, decided to stand and fight for a better future, there would be no route of escape left open for them. No possibility for victory. All that would endure would be two tiny sparks of potential to nurture for a distant chance at a future generation's redemption. No hope would remain for his own people's survival._

_A vision of the future rose up in his mind through the Force, shaken loose by what this vast being was trying to communicate. He saw a galaxy bathed in blood. Violence, slavery, and starvation become commonplace tools of a tyrant, used to oppress any who did not have a voice powerful enough to protest. He saw the fall of his beloved Order, the blaster-charred destruction of his home, tiny bodies and the feeble infirm struck down just as ruthlessly as those who fought in their own defense. He saw the clone troopers they had fought and died beside used as instruments of their destruction, their wills torn away by dark, clawing fingers._

_Feemor shook his head in useless denial, clutching his companion even tighter. No. It was too much. Their people had given their lives by the thousands in service to a galaxy that all too often scorned their every effort as not enough, as if falling anywhere short of the mark of perfection that was demanded of them equated to evil itself._

_His brow furrowed in resolute defiance. Surely there could be some reprieve._

  

> _A vast array of flickering sparks took shape before them, stubbornly pulsing their lights out into the darkness, trying in vain to hold it at bay. The trap with its cruel spikes still lay in wait, its jaws poised to snap closed around those guttering embers, but this time the lights flitted away before they could be caught, a single thread-thin golden path opening before them, leading them to peace and refuge._

 

_Mace could feel Feemor’s arms relaxing their vice-like grip around him, his fingers tracing a path along Mace’s back that he immediately recognized as an abbreviated version of the route through space that would lead their people along that golden path to safety._

_Mace didn’t have to speak a word to know that he and Feemor were in perfect accord. If there was even a chance to save some of their people from the oncoming Darkness, if some of their children and just-budding knights could be spared the gruesome fate that lay in store, they would do everything in their power to make that possibility a reality._

_And their powers combined could achieve great things indeed._

 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Art] Our Hearts Tied Together With a Golden Thread of Hope](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18713218) by [xiahuozi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xiahuozi/pseuds/xiahuozi)




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